The Bat is dun, with wrinkled Wings --
Like fallow Article --
And not a song pervade his Lips --
Or none perceptible.
His small Umbrella quaintly halved
Describing in the Air
An Arc alike inscrutable
Elate Philosopher.
Deputed from what Firmament --
Of what Astute Abode --
Empowered with what Malignity
Auspiciously withheld --
To his adroit Creator
Acribe no less the praise --
Beneficent, believe me,
His Eccentricities --

O, Astutest Emily,
See the Bat in you and me;
In firmament echo his song,
And let the distance near or long,
I perceive it in my heart
Half of it dun in your art;
The other half to elate
Shelter in the umbrellaís fate;
And to our bold scrutiny
Lips of the bat sing secrecy;
As you and me and the bat fly
Adroitly praise him in his sky,
Never doubt in you and me,
I believe you Emily.
Altair Laahad (All Rights Reserved)

Note: that Iím from Tunisia. The list of countries provided by the site doesnít include Tunisia, so I selected Algeria as it is the nearest country to where I am:))

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